Found Out About You
by Aoe
Summary: Another songfic, sequel to Guilty. Yohji's POV, even angstier, and no happy ending, just to warn you. Rated for language.


Found Out About You

Disclaimer: I still own nothing. "Found Out About You" belongs to the Gin Blossoms. Yohji and Schu and everybody else belong to Takehito Koyasu and Project Weiss and probably some production companies, too.

Note: This is the sequel to my other songfic Guilty, and probably won't make as much sense if you haven't read that story. By the way, thanks for all the nice reviews on Guilty! It wasn't actually my first story written, just the first one I posted for public viewing. Anyway, here's some more angst!

~…~ denotes song lyrics

****

Found Out About You

__

"Yeah, Kudo. This is what I do."

And then he left. Walked out of my life without a backward glance.

Well, sort of out of my life. I mean, we're not lovers anymore, but we're still deadly enemies. We still get to fight and try to kill each other.

It's kind of like we got married instead of…

Okay, that was a bad joke. Forget it.

Forget all of it.

Like he has.

Just last night, we had a run-in with Schwarz. He was there, of course. We fought, of course. I think everybody else arranges it that way on purpose, forcing us together so both sides can be sure there's no lingering attachment.

And there isn't, for him.

That hurts, and I hate him for that.

It makes me want to smack him, hit him, knock that damn smirk off his face and scream at him, "Don't you remember all the time we spent together? We weren't just screwing, damn it! There was more than that, I know there was!"

I know there was.

But he would probably just laugh at me.

Looking in his cold eyes now, it's like none of it ever happened.

__

~All last summer, in case you don't recall~

There was a brief time, there, when it was golden. When we came so close to something better than either of us had had before.

So close.

Too close.

People like us don't get fairy tale endings. Just because you can see the brass ring doesn't mean you'll ever get close enough to grab it.

Of course, as it turns out, I was the only one reaching. Not that I knew that at the time. I really fell for his act, hook, line and sinker. I guess I wanted to believe. Aya was never as open with me as Schu was, and it felt so…good, to have somebody so close.

Too close.

I thought he…well, maybe not that he loved me. But that…he cared.

__

"Was there ever…anything…?"

"No."

I cared.

I was an idiot.

__

~I was yours and you were mine, forget it all~

If I had any doubts left, that last night in the bar crushed them all for me. Oh, wait, it's hopes that get crushed, not doubts.

It sounds better to say they were doubts. Less stupid. Less naïve.

How can _I_ be naïve? I've always been the cynical, jaded, self-centered bastard. I've always been the user, not the victim.

First time for everything. We play the same game, and he was better at it. I got caught up in it, caught up in him, while he…

Sometimes I wonder if I ever touched him. If I ever reached him. If anything I ever said or did to him mattered at all.

__

~Is there a line that I could write

That's sad enough to make you cry?~

Sometimes I know it never did.

He said that maybe we were friends.

But I don't think we were. 

__

~All the lines you wrote to me were lies~

They say time heals all wounds. But mine are still festering and raw, even after all this time. Winter's coming on, now, and I find myself walking down a nearly deserted street, a cold rain plastering my hair to my head and beading on the lenses of my ever-present sunglasses.

So much time gone by, wasted, used up, and here I am, like an idiot, walking around in the rain with this aching hole in my chest.

Sometimes I really wish he'd just killed me.

__

~Months roll past, the love that you struck dead~

But of course, that would have let me off too easy. I never deluded myself into thinking he was really a nice guy, deep down. Schuldig is not, and never will be, a warm and fuzzy sort of person. He's a bastard, and he likes it that way.

So why was I so sure he felt something other than contempt and lust for me? Why is part of me still so sure of that?

I have to wonder… I mean, he is a telepath. I know he could read my thoughts. What if he could read my feelings?

What if he could change them?

I've laid in bed on long sleepless nights these past few months, trying to figure out exactly when and why he became more than an unpleasant assignment to me. Trying to figure out if he reached inside my head and made me…care for him.

Or made me believe that he cared, thereby opening myself up to stupidity…

__

~Did you love me only in my head?~

"Hey."

I stop walking, look to the street beside me. A red car is pulled up to the curb, the window down. Familiar green eyes stare flatly at me from beneath a veil of flame-red hair.

"Need a lift?" he asks calmly, as though nothing ever happened. As though we are acquaintances just bumping into one another.

I know better by now. Schuldig and coincidence are two concepts that do not go together.

"You've already taken me for a ride," I reply flatly.

A spark of amusement in his green eyes. That infuriating little smirk makes an appearance and I want to punch him right in the mouth.

"Just get in the car, Kudo," he demands impatiently, rolling his window back up.

He'll just follow me if I don't.

So I get in.

He pulls away from the curb and starts driving, not asking me where I was going. Not that he needs to ask. He probably already knows, and is showing more than his usual tact in not taunting me about my aimless wandering.

It's been over two months since we've been alone together when we weren't in the middle of a fight or mission.

"So, how've you been?" he asks lightly after a while of driving in silence.

I shrug and look out the window, not bothering to answer aloud. "You?" I counter grudgingly, telling myself that I don't care.

"What do you want me to say, Yohji? I missed you? My life is empty without you? I can't forget the way your mouth tastes, the way your hands felt on my skin? That everyone I've been with since has been a pale shadow of what we had together? Is that what you want to hear?" he asks flatly, turning to look questioningly at me as he stops at a red light.

I can only stare back in surprise. Does he mean any of that? All those things, that's how _I've_ felt… Can I believe him?

How could it not be that way for him, too, part of me demands. What we had was so…so much more than anything I've had since Asuka died. Maybe…just maybe, it was…

He's still staring, some unreadable emotion darkening his eyes. He has to mean it. It has to be true. 

__

~The things you said and did to me

Seemed to come so easily~

"Yes, that's what I want to hear," I say softly, staring intently into his eyes.

They go cold and flat, even as the words leave my lips, and I know I've made another mistake.

He smirks at me. "Sorry, Kudo. Brad, or any random person off the street, for that matter, makes you just a distant memory."

Yeah. I should have seen that one coming.

__

~The love I thought I'd won you give for free~

We ride in silence for a while, until finally I ask him why he was looking for me.

"Who says I was looking for you?" he asks, frowning over at me as he narrowly avoids plowing into the rear of a garbage truck. I would think I had surprised him if I didn't know he always drives like that.

"Come on, Schu, give me a little credit. Nothing between us ever happens by chance," I reply. Bitter, bitter, bitter. I sound like a carping woman.

He snorts at my statement, but then says flatly, "You've been doing some research."

I glance over at him, but he is focused on the road ahead. I know that tone of voice, though. Low, dangerous, lacking his usual flippant casualness or mocking edge. It's a warning.

I _have_ been doing some research. With my usual wisdom and forethought, I'm doing the prep work for this "case" now that it's all over. Call it morbid curiosity, call it the ingrained nosiness of a private detective, call it whatever you like. It's something I need to do. I need to know everything I can find out about him. I need to be able to figure out how he got under my skin like he did.

I need to learn enough so he's no longer a mystery, no longer enthralling and compelling, but just another man. Just another sleazy, slutty murderer. Not special. Not someone I should feel anything but hatred and contempt for.

I need to know.

__

~Whispers at the bus stop – I've heard about

Nights out in the schoolyard – I found out about you

I found out about you~

"While it's kind of flattering that you find me so fascinating," he continues slowly, smirking to himself as I curse him silently, "Brad doesn't see it that way. Brad sees an enemy hunting one of his people. And Brad doesn't like that."

"Fuck Brad," I mutter.

"I do, regularly," he shoots back with a nasty grin.

I roll my eyes, having walked into that one.

"But seriously, Kudo, give it a rest," he says, his tone once more serious. "Just leave it alone."

"Why should I?" I ask, intrigued by this warning. Does it bother him that I'm digging around in his past and present, finding things out he might rather I didn't?

"Because if you keep it up, Brad's going to decide you're getting too close, learning too much, and he'll decide you need to die," he explains irritably, as though I should already know this.

Actually, I do already know this.

"Schu? In case you hadn't noticed, Brad already thinks I need to die. We're on opposite sides of the law, remember?" I point out patiently, watching with interest as his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"Damn it, Yohji! If there's anything you want to know that badly, just ask me! I have no problem telling you! But just…stop _investigating_ me!" he snaps, and I enjoy his anger and frustration.

"You'd just lie," I counter calmly, watching him stew. "You always did, I know that much now. I know lots of things about you. Did you know that you're very memorable?" I ask him conversationally while he drives much too fast down a crowded street, swerving around slower moving vehicles. "People don't quickly forget the tall, redheaded gaijin with the attitude the size of Mount Fuji. I've heard all kinds of stories, just from giving your description. It's hardly even an investigation. Everybody I've met has been more than willing to talk about you."

__

~Rumors follow everywhere you go~

That's all true, too. He's flamboyant and obnoxious, and those traits combined with his distinctive physical appearance make him stand out here in Japan. Of course, I've also done my best to dig up records on him from Germany, even gave myself a crash course in German to do it, but since he doesn't use his real name it's been slow going.

The people he knows here, though… Okay, so most of them don't know much about him, just stories of things they've seen him do, or heard about him doing.

I particularly enjoy talking to the people in the places we went to together. They all seem to have known from the start that we would never last. Some of them had bets laid on when our "fling" would end.

__

~Like when you left and I was last to know~

The more I learn, the more I can't believe how blind I was for so long. I mean, in the places where we met, the places where we hung out together… All these people were watching us, laughing up their sleeves at Schu's latest escapade.

I'm not the first. I am not the first, and while I guess that should be comforting, it really kind of hurts. At least I know he's not really all that faithful to Brad.

Or maybe all the other people he's been seen with were assignments, too. I mean, that is what he does, and he's damn good at it. Screwing with people, I mean.

Why does it seem like everyone else knows that but me?

__

~You're famous now and there's no doubt

In all the places you hang out~

"What can I say? I'm captivating," he drawls mockingly.

"Yeah, you're a real piece of work," I mutter, annoyed that he isn't embarrassed to think of some of the stories I must have heard. But of course, he doesn't care what I think of him.

"Schuldig" means guilty in German. That's one of the first things I learned when I bought a German dictionary. I don't have any idea why he took it as his name. Nobody I've talked to knows either. But every time I've brought it up, everyone I've talked to has kind of smirked to themselves and laughed knowingly. Like it makes perfect sense to them.

It should make sense to me, too, I guess. I mean, a guy with "sin" tattooed on his arm ought to understand why another guy would call himself "guilty." But I can't reconcile it to the man I thought I knew.

Maybe the man I knew didn't really exist. Maybe those people who seem to get the joke are the ones who know the real Schuldig.

__

~They know your name and they know what you're about~

He pulls the car over, and I realize we are in front of the flower shop. The rain and season have made for slow business, so I can see all my buddies peering out the window at the bright red sports car that just pulled up. Great. No need to ask if he did that on purpose.

He turns to look at me, expression serious. "Look, Kudo, if you want to trot all over this island and chat with every bartender, floozy, and drunk I've ever met, that's fine. Knock yourself out. I'll send you over a list of contacts. But leave Germany alone, all right? You won't find anything useful anyway, and it's making Brad very nervous to have you poking around over there. So…look, just…just promise me you'll quit it, okay?" he presses earnestly.

I raise an eyebrow, staring at him incredulously. _Promise_ him? What the hell is that all about? "What's the matter, Schu, you worried about me?" I ask mockingly.

He scowls at me. "Don't be ridiculous," he snaps.

"Okay," I answer quickly. "I _won't_ be ridiculous. I _won't_ promise an enemy that I'll stop doing my best to dig up any useful information I can on him. I _won't_ promise that I'll just ignore the fact that both you and Crawford are obviously very worried about what I might find out about your past in Germany. I _won't_ promise to stay the hell out of your business." I smirk triumphantly at him as I finish that little speech.

"Fine," he says flatly, then suddenly grabs my shirt and drags me across the seat, and before I can even register what's happening, he's kissing me.

Hormone-crazed slut that I am, I kiss him back.

God, it feels good. 

Abruptly, he breaks the kiss, pushing me away so hard my back slams into the door. "Fine," he repeats, smiling nastily at me. "Then _I_ won't promise to stay out of your thoughts."

I stare at him for a moment before my head stops spinning from that unexpected kiss. Then I quickly get out of the car and slam the door as hard as I can. He spins the tires as he pulls away, spraying my legs with dirty water.

That kiss felt real. It really, truly did. Even knowing what I know, it still felt real.

He's much better at this game than I am.

__

~Whispers at the bus stop – I've heard about

Nights out in the schoolyard – I found about you

I found out about you~

I finish the last of my tepid coffee and toss the cup out on the street. It's really getting too cold out now to be driving around in a convertible, but I hate having the top up. It's a question of style.

Or maybe it's just stupidity. Sometimes I think I may not really know the difference.

The streetlight above me flickers to life as twilight begins to fade into night. I can't stay out here too much longer. 

__

~Street lights blink on through the car window~ 

Aya's going to rip me a new one when I get back as it is. If it were possible, I would say that he has become even more of tight-assed prick since I stopped letting him screw me. But I don't think a person can be _more_ than a _total_ tight-assed prick. But if someone could… 

But I guess tonight he'll be justified. We have a mission tonight, and my teammates haven't got the foggiest idea where I am right now.

Although I bet they're all carefully avoiding making any guesses. 

The radio, playing softly to keep me from falling asleep, informs me once again of the time.

Yeah, I should really be going soon. Now.

Maybe in a few minutes.

__

~I get the time too often on AM radio~

My buddies all think I'm obsessing on Schuldig, they just try to avoid the subject, hoping it will pass. They give me funny looks behind my back, and conversations stop when I walk into a room. Part of me thinks I should just tell them what I'm doing, that I'm digging for evidence of his criminal past, not sneaking off to screw him in sleazy motels.

But another part of me, the part that reminds me of him sometimes, is of the opinion that if they're that curious, they could damn well ask me what I was doing. If they just want to make assumptions, that's not my fault.

I flick the smoldering butt of my cigarette after the coffee cup, and glance over at the passenger seat, picking up the pile of printouts carelessly tossed there. I finally managed to find something that might be useful in old German juvie files. This one has a picture that could very well be Schu at about thirteen. Of course, it's all in German, and translation had been slow going. I was working on it earlier, until I got bored with looking back and forth in the dictionary I bought. Instead I started doodling.

I shake my head at myself. I was trying to accurately translate "Schuldig" into kana again. It really isn't possible. His birth tongue has sounds in it that just don't exist in Japanese. Not only can we not pronounce his name correctly, we can't even write it.

It's a silly little thing to have been doing, and I had set it aside when my mind started trying to suggest it was all symbolic of how I can't quite seem to figure _him_ out. I figured that was getting a bit too schoolgirl-dramatic, even for an obsessed stalker.

__

~You know it's all I think about

I write your name, drive past your house~

I really should get back to the shop. The guys will be starting to worry, and if I don't go soon, worry will translate into anger, and I don't feel like dealing with it.

I look up at the house, at the window I've identified as his, one more time.

The lights are on. There's a familiar silhouette standing behind the glass.

He knows I'm here, of course. He's a telepath. I could hardly hide my presence from him. He knows I've been here every night for a week, ever since that chat in his car. This is the first time he's allowed me to see any evidence of his presence in the house.

Or maybe it's the first time he's been home at night. Trailing him would be even more pointless than staking out the house, so I never bothered to try.

I don't know what I'm hoping to accomplish here. I don't know why I keep doing this. If I had a shred of sense, I would just let it all go, forget about it, forget about him.

He's a shadow at the window, but the light from behind turns his wild hair into a corona of flame, and shows me enough of the angle of his head that I'm pretty sure he's looking right at me.

After a moment, another shadow moves up behind him, their forms pressing together into one. The newcomer is taller, broad-shouldered. There aren't many people around here taller than Schuldig. And only one in Schwarz.

The shadows separate again, the larger backing away from the window, pulling the smaller one after. For a moment, I see him hesitate, and I swear I can almost hear him sigh inside my head. Then he steps away from the window and is gone. A few minutes later, the light goes out.

__

~Your boyfriend's over I watch your lights go out~

I look over at the pile of papers again. I haven't gotten far in my translation. So far there hasn't been anything interesting, a brief psychological profile that even I know him well enough to realize is fairly inaccurate, a short list of misdemeanors, shoplifting, pickpocketing. Contact information for an orphanage. A name I haven't let myself look at, out of some strange lingering respect for his privacy.

Suddenly, I don't care about any of it. It doesn't matter. Schuldig doesn't translate to Japanese. No matter how far I dig, I will never understand the things I need to understand. I will never learn what I need to learn.

I look up at his window again.

The light is out.

And that, in the end, tells me all I need to know.

__

~Whispers at the bus stop – I've heard about

Nights out in the schoolyard – I found out about you

I found out about you~

I toss the papers out on the street as I start my car. I don't think I'll be back. Every camel's back has its maximum straw capacity, and I think I've hit mine tonight. There's no point to this. I'm not doing this to my friends and myself anymore.

He's not worth it.

If I've learned nothing else, I've learned that.

He meant every cold word, every derisive laugh. He meant it when he said it meant nothing.

I haven't been investigating Schuldig. I've spent all this time searching for evidence of a man who never existed.

__

~Whispers at the bus stop- I've heard about

Nights out in the schoolyard – I found out about you

I found out about you~

I don't look back as I drive away, the scattered papers flying in the wake of my car's passing. I don't look back in anger. I don't look back at all.

I've wasted months of my life…

But no, I needed to take the time to come to terms with this. To really understand the futility of it. There are some things you have to learn for yourself, after all.

__

~I found out about you~

So when you gonna learn, Kudo?

Maybe I'm starting to.

__

~I found out about you…~

***********************************

Yeah, so…that's kind of the end. These two stories actually kind of depress me, since I much prefer happy endings, with Schu and Yohji skipping merrily off into the sunset together (Well, maybe not skipping, but you get the idea). But this particular storyline just didn't want to end happily. I might continue it someday, just to see if I can get them to end up together, but it won't be anytime soon. I've got a couple of epics I want to finish before I work on anything else. Thanks for reading! Please R&R, if you have the time or inclination!


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